


Desert Moon

by SDRose



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-07
Updated: 2008-09-07
Packaged: 2019-03-05 20:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13395930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SDRose/pseuds/SDRose
Summary: He did not know how it happened. Couldn't fathom how he of all people could have been so thoroughly entrapped. All that he knew was that somehow, in some way, he had fallen for her.





	Desert Moon

* * *

 

He watched her with eyes that had long watched and waited upon the world. Sea-foam pools that nearly glowed in the darkened night. Above him the great expanse of sky seemed to swirl endlessly, crystalline tears scattered across that deep blue backdrop as though cobalt pigments had been tainted with shards of jewels. A mournful wind blew, teasing blood red locks made silver and jet in the moon's ghostly light and lifting swirling bits of sand to dance across the endless dunes.

He did not know how it happened. Couldn't fathom how  _he_  of all people could have been so thoroughly entrapped. It was ridiculous, preposterous, but true. How long had he stood in this same spot, his slender form hidden by the deceptive rushes crests of sand that hugging him almost tenderly? Here he was at home, capable of escaping the crushing weight of his life for a few precious, quiet moments as he fell into a restive state unrelated to sleep, thinking nothing, feeling nothing but the rush of wind and the vastness of the desert.

That is... until now.

No, he frowned, his eyes trained on something in the distance. Not until now. It had been days…months maybe? He was no longer sure. Tomorrow never came for those who never slept. Days were meaningless, there was only now and then and before. The sun and moon, they held no sway over him. At least that was, until her.

* * *

 

_The village was quiet, all souls cradled in the merciful grip slumber. All but one lone figure flitting across the rooftops soundlessly. The Kazekage of Sunagakure no Sato, the sole being in this corner of civilization incapable of the garnering the restoring qualities of sleep. He was careful in his movements, his dark red and brown apparel blending seamlessly into the shadows. Eyes flickered to him as he passed by the gates, leaving just as quickly. The night-watch was well accustomed to his meandering habits and gave not even a nod of acknowledgement. Oh but not for disrespect, they would have had he not berated them for forgetting their jobs for even a moment. They knew better now, patrolling steadfastly as their leader left to seek solace in the cold grip of the desert eve._

_A cold calculating sense of unreality pressed upon him, the fervent desire for bloodshed thrumming through his veins as he leapt into the distance. The desert welcomed him glinting grains flying to him to huddle about his form as he soared across the wide expanses, carried by the very sands he watched._

_This was his domain. With Shukaku or not the desert still recognized him as its child, held him, honored him, protected him... Damned him. It, he had learned early on, was his only true mistress. The sole entity he could trust with its ruthless nurturing….The desert was a harsh mistress to her children, putting them through deadly sandstorm, and blazing heat before chilling them to the bone as the sun sought its repose and gave way to its pale sister. Yet it guarded them well, those same killing sands holding her children close, protecting them from both sun and chill, and for those capable of surviving, protecting them from predators if only they might survive until the next rain…_

_He had reached it, a small oasis near one of Suna's long abandoned forts. Since the alliance with Konohagakure no Sato peace had settled itself upon the land making such forts obsolete for the moment. Now few were used, only visited once a month to be maintained. As expected there was no one in its looming figure, yet the sands were disturbed. The wind whispered in his ears, his sinewy form tensing as it carried to him the panting breaths and curses. His eyes narrowed, the only sign of his irritation as in a swirl his form disappeared into the sand._

_She twisted, fists punching craters into the ground that were soon filled. Her hair shone a pale silver in the light of the half-moon, her usually red apparel changed to the white and brown of the Suna's elite. Yet she was not Sunaean. Sakura. The name slithered through his mind and his eyes lightened in recognition, irritation replaced by idle curiosity. What was she doing at this time of night? In_  his _spot?_ _His lips pursed._

 _Evidently she was training a shrill voice reminded him, the wavering remnants of the demon which once shared his form. It was gone from him, torn from his limbs viciously by the harbingers of the new dawn. Akatsuki. He hated them, and even now he could feel the resounding thrum of desire for death. Shukaku. He could never be completely free of the demon. Placed into his still developing form the demon's energy had molded and made him, weaving itself irrevocably into his very flesh so that no seal, no ritual was necessary to contain him- he_ was _Shukaku. Mind, body, soul, they were shared and no matter the distance he would still remain part of him._

_At least the whining shrieks for death had softened now, becoming naught but harsh whispers in his mind, an echo of what it once was. His control now was impeccable. But he was getting off point…_

_There was the medic from Konoha coincidentally training in his spot. Ire blossomed within his chest, tainting the edges of curiosity as he realized his typical meditative measures would have to be postponed unless he were willing to find another place to idle or forcibly remove the kunoichi from the area. He pondered this for a second, considering the effort it would take. It shouldn't be too difficult; despite being a kunoichi of formidable caliber here he was in his element. Just a moment's concentration and the sand could clasp about her graceful form as she fell into a taijutsu stance, practicing kata. Yes it would be easy, but… He frowned, eyes calculating. The death of such a kunoichi, particularly the Godaime's apprentice herself, would cause civil distress and provoke a war─something Suna did not need. Of course, his mind offered, he also owed this female his life._

 

* * *

 

 

His eyes were trained on her as they had so many times now. She turned rapidly, jumping as she thrust and arm up and delivered a spinning kick to an unseen opponent. Her shadow formed seemed highlighted by the full moon's light, pale skin soaking in the silver beams so that the sweat gleamed on her skin. Beautiful. She was beautiful. He knew what would come next as it always did, she would fall into a loose stance before moving in fluid, dance like movements, her arms twisting and thrusting so quickly even his keen eyes had troubled discerning their path. After she would practice _ninjutsu_ some of which he had never seen before and which he quickly discerned must be of her own creation. One he recalled her attempting again and again yet always in the end it would fail. Yet the last time she had come incredibly close. He wondered if perhaps this night she would succeed? He did not know.

_She moved like a cat, he noted. Powerful legs propelled her upwards in a pounce as she summoned a clone, sending it soaring into the air as she repeatedly attacked it before both went spiraling downwards. Despite himself, he felt the faintest stirring of-could it be? - appreciation. Yes. That was it; he was appreciative of her movements. Such a strange emotion he noted. A cool jade gaze fell once again upon the glowing half-circle suspended in the sky. The skies were always glorious in the desert night, yet he was not admiring the beauty, instead he was measuring the time. Over fifteen minutes had passed since he had arrived. He should move. It looked as though the kunoichi would continue training for at least a few more hours. Hours he could spend freeing himself. Odd, he thought, that she did not notice his presence, albeit he had hidden his chakra well._

_Not so much a kunoichi then, that faint voice cackled. He ignored it, commanding his legs to move. Yet he found himself unable, his body unwilling to obey his commands as his gaze drank in the sight of her flitting across the sands, seemingly at home. Long fingered hands attached to dainty wrists jolted, falling into a flurry of movement. Seals, he recognized them. Horse, tiger, dog... His eyes narrowed imperceptibly, what jutsu was this? A trick perhaps? He quickly discarded the thought. There was no logical way she could have known where he ventured to. No logical way she could have planned something without his knowing. Besides she was the Godaime's apprentice; it was considered bad form to attempt to assassinate an ally's kage. His lips twitched, an expression threatening to form. She was certainly welcome to try, the break in monotony would be welcomed and the chance to truly fight refreshing. But then he'd have to kill her. For some reason the idea was distasteful to him. Naruto wouldn't forgive him. So odd, he mused, to have a friend. It was a welcome change._

Emerald eyes shone in the full moon's light. This was it. She was finally going to do it. She could feel it somewhere deep inside her, the growing anticipation. Tonight she would do it. She had to. One last twist, one last thrust of the palms outward aimed at an intangible opponent. She stopped for a moment as she was wont to do, calming her speeding heart, finding her center. She had to concentrate fully on this, contemplating the subtle shifts in chakra necessary and at what points. Adrenaline couldn't interfere.

_"Enjoying the show?" His widened fractionally as the kunoichi spun, her deadly dance stopped as her jade-like eyes trained themselves on his hidden form. Could she see him? No he discarded the thought, she must have sensed his presence faint as it was. More of a kunoichi then, he amended._

Horse, tiger, dog... Her lips lifted at the corners. She knew this configuration well now. Nimble fingers flowed from one sign to the next. Chakra concentrated red and hot at her spine, swirling in her abdomen like the burning flames that both destroyed and birthed a new. Flame to create, change, distort, destroy. Dragon, snake, pig... A hard rush of energy in her arms, rolling to entwine with the flames. Earth to give form, to mold. Stability fighting against the blazing of chaos. Sweat beaded on her brow, so lost in her concentration everything else fell away and beneath her eye lids there were only swirls of color, fighting, mixing, making things a new. This was the difficult part, getting closer and closer to where she failed. Legs pumped, blood rushing through them in the anticipation of movement and from his perch, Gaara watched, deceptively serene eyes taking in the subtle swirls of her chakra hanging on the wind. She was close. He could see it.

Tiger, tiger, rat, ram, bird... Coolness seeped through her, rushing down her throat to swirl near her navel, rushing angrily against the heat of flames and the insistent push of earth. Water to adapt, to add vitality and fuse both earth and flame. Her hands trembled held in their position. This was it, where she failed. Always. Determination flared through her she would not fail today. Her palm thrust outward, fingers reaching, stretching.

_"Hn." A glimmer of emotion whispered by, intangible. A mild amusement he mused. Could that be enjoyment? It did not matter. The kunoichi could think what she wanted. She would regardless. "The training grounds are open to you during your assignment." He stated coolly, now sure of his denial of rest._

_Sakura snorted at his blatant misdirection. Or at least it seemed like that, with his tendency to speak a type of Uchiha-nese it was difficult to tell. "I know. I thought it'd good to give the chuunins a break. They aren't used to all the destruction."_

_A smirk quirked on his lips. He understood. With his demon he too had destroyed many a training area and with her destructive techniques she was sure to do the same. The desert was more resilient, self-healing and perfect for the massive impulses. They were alike in that aspect he mused._

Light shot from her hands, gleaming pale pink like scattered petals in the wind, the swirled about with her movements, dancing across the air.  _Shannaro_! She had finally done it; She had created her own jutsu. Eagerly he watched, entranced by the fragmented light and he wondered just what this justu she had created did. For now it seemed nothing more than a paltry trick.

A smile grew on her lips and she threw her arms outwards, pale skin bathed in the moon's light. Those petals glimmered, flying into the sands and she brought her palms together. Then suddenly there was light, bright and fierce scorching through the shadows as the sands flew into the air. A dangerously explosive jutsu he mused. He was impressed. Still, it did not warrant the difficulty of its creation.

"Explosive jutsu," he stated, striding towards her. Immediately she whirled, the smile on her face growing into an ecstatic grin. It stunned him that grin, stirring thing within him he hadn't been aware of. He was unaccustomed to such unrefined joy in his presence. He could count the people who had smiled in his presence on the palm of one hand. Surprisingly the little action made him feel more whole, more human, and less the monster he had been made out to be.

"Hmm," she chided playfully, "not quite." She met him halfway, sweat glistening on her skin. "I haven't tested it yet, obviously," she drawled sarcastically her eyes shining in excitement, "but the jutsu contains medical chakra and should be able to infiltrate the body to harm or heal." A dark look crossed her face, "in this case, it should harm."

He smirked. If her jutsu were successful it could have amazing impact on the outcome of a battle. Perhaps, even, it could harm even him with his absolute defense. After all, how could one defend from something within themselves? It was intelligent and deadly and the harsher voice in him grinned toothily.

_Eyes trained on the almost complete globe in the sky. He could feel the beginning hunger, searing slowly through his veins like some cataclysmic poison and threatening to burst. Soon. Soon it would be a full moon, the burning hunger grown strong enough to incite his most violent of urges. Shukaku. Even divorced from him he was haunted, the demon's lust tainting his already tainted form. At least it was only that. An urge. Black lids slid closed. He remembered only too vividly the taste of blood coating his tongue, the sweet metallic taste intoxicating him so that his movements were not his own and his mind was lost. I_

_nsane. Consumed._

_He was glad it was gone._

_A shuffling sound perked his ears and his eyes veered towards the kunoichi now happily munching on a pre-wrapped umemboishi._

_"Hmm?" Shock zinged through her and she offered a shy smile._ Good going stupid, her inner spat, did you think he was Naruto? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. Urusai!  _She ventured a glance and almost cringed at the intense look in his eyes._   _She laughed weakly, silently berating herself as she offered up an onigiri wrapped in shiny plastic. "Ah, want one?"_

_His eyes widened. And Sakura berated herself again for stupidity. Of course not. Of course he wouldn't want food from her. Regardless his relationship with Naruto he was the Kazekage for Kami's sake. Gaara. Why the hell had she thought he would be comfortable enough to—_

_Her mouth popped open, her hand clutching air as her eyes darted from her empty hand to the Suna nin deftly unwrapping the large ball of rice. Those intense eyes found her again and her jaw snapped shut with a click. Yet she could not stop staring as the Kazekage leaned back against the wall and took a wary bite._

_Flavour burst on his tongue, sharp, tangy, and acidic. His face scrunched up in distaste. Peals of laughter broke through hanging silence and he glared at the kunoichi fighting a losing battle as she only laughter harder. Ire sparked, tainting the sweet taste of the rice in his mouth and he swallowed harshly. Did she see fit to mock him?! The sand swirled uneasily, the venom in his veins only fueling his anger. Did she think him so inhuman he never ate? He thought better of her._

_"I-I'm sorry," she huffed between gasping breaths when the last of the laughter left her. "I was just." A laught trembled on her lips and her eyes watered. "It was just. Oh, kami!" Her eyes shone in amusement and his scowl deepened, his arms crossed defensively. "You're face! It was so funny!"_

_Her face scrunched in an approximation of the look before laughter stole her again and the corner of his lip twitched, his ire forgotten. "Hn." He intoned, relaxing again and taking another bite. It wasn't quite so bad once he got over the initial sourness._

"How do you intend to test it?" His voice was free of inflection but Sakura knew better. The slight tenseness of his jaw, the familiar light in those eyes. He was curious. She culled the desire to grin smugly.

"Hmm," she tapped her chin with a delicate finger, making a show of pondering. "I wonder…"

The hair tense at the nape of his neck and those black lined eyes narrowed. Inside the demon's snarl echoed through him, though he knew he wasn't in danger. Not physically at least, a part of him chirped sardonically. No, perhaps not his body but his pride… That was another matter.

"Think fast!" The air whistled in his ears as he instinctively jumped backwards, a wave of sand half curling about him to block the movement. Those black rimmed eyes scanned the seemingly peaceful desert widening as he leapt again, the kunoichi's stumbling from the momentum.

"Sakura…"

That tone sent little chills down her spine, but she ignored it. She knew it was an empty threat and she grinned at him cattishly. It was always like this between them. He would act unmovable and unshakable- as though offended by her movements, and then slowly he would begin to retaliate, the primal joy of the fight seizing him too.

Despite himself, he smiled, just the barest inclination of the lips as he blocked another punch, the kunoichi expertly disappearing again. No one dared tease him like she did. Not even his boisterous sister too afraid to harm their tender, growing relationship.

He found he liked it. The teasing. It made him feel… human.

_They were here again. Sitting in this little patch of desert. Just the two of them and a canopy of stars. He found they often had moments like these. The night capturing them as their thoughts wandered and they basked in the company of another soul. Another comarade versed in loneliness and the effects of sleepless nights…_

_"Gaara?"_

_"Hmm?" He looked at her then, the strain in her voice alerting him at once. Her body language screamed of guilt, desire, and broken things as her hair shaded her eyes from view._

_"Do you think they forgive us?" He lifted a brow and she corrected herself hastily. "The dead I mean," she asked weakly, revealing eyes bright with tears as she looked up towards the stars. A pang went through him, old fears, old pains rising in him. He grit his teeth._

_"I don't know." She sniffed, and something in him twisted uneasily at her misery. Why? Why did her feelings affect him so? "But," he began and she looked at him, fighting the well of tears, "I think it's more whether we forgive ourselves."_

_"Heh," she chuckled weakly, "when did you become so wise?"_

_He chose not to answer, instead turning to her with those fathomless eyes. "Those two wouldn't blame you, you know." He stated quietly, "They knew their wounds were too serious. I think… I think they must have been pleased to have someone care so much." The thought went unsaid._ I know I would.

"Come on Gaara. Don't you want to see what my jutsu does?" Her voice echoed through the desert seeming to come from every direction. He stretched his senses, searching for her scent only to find it lingering in the like some exotic perfume so that the desert itself smelled of her. His eyes narrowed, the adrenaline seeping into his viens. Too slow he realized her trick. A genjutsu!

"Kai."

" _Shannaro_!" Only the reflexive molding of his sand shielded him from the blow as her fist careened dangerously close to his face. The sand cracked, burst under the force of her thrust and he took advantage of her momentary shock to bind her arms tightly.

"A nice effort." He complimented, those jade eyes observed her cooly. "But you will have to be better than that."

The shocked expression melted from her face, as she stuck her tongue at him before bursting into a plume of smoke. A kage bushin? The impact threw him backwards, the sand writhing about him. His scanned the area, the sweet perfume thickening, and he blinked. It was raining cherry blossoms? Quickly he realized her trick, trapping him in two elaborate genjutsu so that she could try her jutsu and quickly he released it, disappearing into the sea of sand before those deceptive blossoms could touch him…

Her eyes glowed, luminous with her anticipation. She knew it was too good to be true. Gaara wouldn't be defeated that easily. Not by her. She smirked wryly as she admit, if only to herself, she was no match for him in terms of strength. The only way she could win with him was trickery.

A pregnant silence filled the air, the soft puffs of her breath seeming irritatingly loud as the long moment followed by. Damn him. He knew she wasn't the most patient of people when it came to a spar; especially not after a long day filled with whining patients, and incompetent medics unwilling to get their head out of their arse long enough to realize that yes, damn it, she was younger than them but she _knew_  a hell of a lot more than they did. Giving in she shuffled, loosing the careful grip she had on the natural world that made her genjutsu dangerously powerful.

The air remained still, untouched for a few more moments and she twitched unhappily. Her senses pricked, not a second too late and she spun, bringing up and arm as she blocked the furious kick towards her, the two jade eyed nin beginning a deadly dance of taijutsu.

"You've improved."

"Thanks." She gave a harsh smile, more a baring of teeth as she hooked her leg around his and turned, breaking his balance. Quickly he retaliated managing a blow before they were caught again in the fervid dance of hit and dodge.

Her hands glowed faintly green and he raised an almost non-existent brow in questioning. "You remember our rules?"

She cursed at him, letting the chakra fade feigning a left as she swiped a leg towards his unprotected right. Damn rules. She remembered alright. Genjutsu and taijutsu were the only allowances, the former an equalizer to his natural defense. If she used jutsu, he could as well. If she tried to use medical techniques, he could use his more offensive sand techniques. And with the desert as their training ground… Let's just say things wouldn't look too good for one pink-haired Konoha kunoichi.

More blows, more strikes, more efforts to entrap the other long enough for a decisive win. Most times, she was sad to say, he won, her body too exausted to keep up with his greater chakra levels. But sometimes, just sometimes, she managed to catch him by surprise.

She panted and he smirked at her. That cocky little smirk that both infuriated and attracted her. The smirk that told her he knew he was winning. She snarled. Hell no! She was not losing. Not this time!

A pale sliver of moonlight highlighted his hair, the deep red tinted with the pale blue of the night and it drew her eye to the kanji stark on his forehead. A wicked idea came filled her mind and her body hummed in anticipation.  _Oh no._  A part of her groaned. This was so not going to work. He was Gaara for kami's sake! He'd probably kill her before falling for it.  _But if he does fall for it…_  The devious part of her rubbed its hands evily.

Leaping from him suddenly, Sakura began running quick circles around him, feigning right then left, and every which way as he gave chase. Then, suddenly. Inexplicably, she spun on her heel, running straight at him as he came full speed towards her.

They collided in a tangle of limbs, the sudden switch from chaser to chasee too swift for him to react to the sudden assault. Thankfully, his sand saw fit to protect them both from what was sure to be a jarring impact with the ground, and he realized, with a jolt, he had wrapped his arms around her in an effort to save her from the fall. Too quickly he realized how vulnerable his position, leaving his vital spot open to attack. And when the kunoichi stirred he prepared himself to throw her off him, only to stiffen suddenly. Instead of attacking she had pressed her body closer to his, molding herself to him as her hands sifted through his hair.

Sakura hid a smile against his shoulder at the reaction and fought a moan as she took in the texture of his hair. Great Kamis, what did he use in his hair? Silky smooth and unbelievably soft it reminded her of fur, luxuriously soft and just beginning to be touched. It was like petting one of the Inuzuka's pedigree hounds. She almost forgot her plan too entranced with it. Kami, if she could have hair like that!

Fighting her fascination she moved onto the next stage of her plan, shuffling herself closer to him so she could face him. Her inner tittered excitedly, rambling about how it was fool proof. Not even that _baka_ Naruto or the emotionally stunted Sai had failed to fall for this trick.

"Gaara," she purred and she felt him shudder beneath her.

The hands in his hair were doing strange things to him. So close. So warm. So real. No one had ever done something like this to him before. Without knowing why he trembled. It was overwhelming, feeling the contact of another's touch against his skin, being left so open, so vulnerable. It was frightening. The sensations so intense and terrifying as he found himself immoble in the kunoichi's gentle grip, the feel of her fingers stroking his scalp sending shivers down his spine and he found himself torn between the want for more contact and the urge to flee.

She shifted and he stiffened again, the warmth of her body cutting through the chill of the desert as her breath fanned his ear. Somewhere inside, something in his howled, warning him that his neck was vulnerable, weak. Warning of just how easy it could be to harm. Panic welled in his throat and his breath came short. His eyes clenched tight. He had to fight it. Fought it. Slowly his breaths began to slow, but still the edge of panic lingered on the surface, the vicious call for self-preservation ringing out from a lifetime of painful memories.

"Gaara." His eyes snapped open and a shudder took him, the feeling somehow different than before. Hearing his name spoken so… so longingly. It touched something in him. Something raw and aching and wanting. Her lips brushed his cheek, just the barest whisper, and he gasped.

Triumphantly, Sakura grinned inwardly, dark lashes lifting so that she could look at him as she delivered the final blow, catching him unawares— And she stopped, the glow in her eyes changing as she notice his expression, so pained, so vulnerable beneath her. Suddenly she felt ashamed. Ashamed she thought to use such tactics against him. Wetness stang at her eyes and she tried to pull away.

Only to be stopped. By him.

Those cool seafoam eyes were wide, pleading. Looking at her as though in that moment she were everything and anything and her breath caught. "Please," he gasped, his arms tightening around her as he asked her without quite understanding what he wanted. Only knowing he couldn't let her leave. Knowing that he craved—no, needed—this closeness.

Tentatively, very tentatively she reached out, stroking his cheek and marveling at its baby softness. So smooth. So untouched. She was fascinated by its contrast to the man she knew. "Gaara," she exclaimed, and this time purer, filled with a growing awe as she watched his eyes flutter closed, the moonlight making his pale skin glow.

 _Beautiful._ She thought.  _How could a man be so beautiful?_ She wasn't sure what it was. Was it the intensity of his expression as he leaned into her touch, as though her fingers on his skin were both the most wonderful and most agnoizing of sensation? Or was it the fact that she had managed to subdue such a powerful man? Or was it just him? Just Gaara? The man she learned made faces on his first bite of umemboishi and dreaded paperwork enough he simply dumped what promised to be unimportant files or turned them to his secretary?

She didn't know.

Her fingers wandered, tracing the bridge of his noise and the curve of his cheek, brushing lightly against the darkened lashes and delicate lids. Something. Some tenderness stole into the pinkette and she was taken with the undeniable urge to kiss him. Her eyes roved his face, settling on those slightly parted and beckoning lips. Just plump enough they begged for a taste. As though in a spell she allowed her lips to graze his, one, twice, before resting against them.

He gasped, and then his hands were in  _her_ hair. Drawing her closer as heat stirred between them and suddenly this close was not close enough. His body warmed, flooded with unfamiliar desires, unfamiliar tastes and tentatively, almost fearfully, he allowed his hand to slip into her shirt.

His fingers were warm. Wonderfully warm, against her stomach, tracing odd shapes on her navel. His touch so soft and light and hesitant she felt as though she were made of glass. He trembled, his eyes wide. Frantic almost. Fearful. Something inside her unravelled at that. Seeing such a powerful shinobi looking so fragile, so innocent. It made her want to love him.

"Gaara," she breathed nuzzling him. Rich. Dark. He smelt of earth and rain and dark things. Those fingers traced her ribs, counted them, rising higher, bolder, and her head spun dizzily as this time  _he_ kissed  _her._

More. He had to have more. The growing sense of skin hunger, the need for skin-ship raised its head, as powerful as any demon. It drove him. Seeking comfort, seeming absolution in the warmth of her. What was this? The fire growing in his belly stretching him taunt. What was it about her that made him suddenly famished? You want her… The gravely voice seemed so far away he could hardly make out the words.  _You…mate…_

Heady. Powerful. Drink on this strange elixir that heated his blood and emboldened his hands, the buckles suddenly began falling away. And he was unsure whether it was his hand or hers that rushed most, the heavy cloth falling away between gasping breaths and fluttering kisses so that they ended up bare in the moonlight.

Pale and luminous. He stared in awe. She looked some fallen angel, a light with the white fire of the moon. Those eyes of hers seeing into him, filled with such emotion it drew him like a moth to flame and he didn't care if he perished in that white fire if only he could feel loved…

Her fingers caressed the shell of his ear and she kissed him, almost shyly, peppering that pale chest with kisses. She smiled when she felt the lean muscle shift, his arms tighter against her. Damn. When had he become so attractive? Her blood fairly boiled and she felt feverish. When had he become so wonderful?

 _Does it matter?_ A part of her dared ask, and as she felt him respond, caressing her so tenderly it brought tears to her eyes she decided it didn't. Nothing mattered except him in this moment.

She wasn't sure. He wasn't sure. Was it hours of minutes when his fingers finally slipped to her thigh, his eyes pleading and his body trembling finely with tension? Skittishly those fingers drew closer to her wet warmth. Her heart lurched. This was it. She realized. Once it began they could never return. Frightening. But those eyes so cool, so bright, so full of warmth. How could she deny him?

Too soon she was making little whimpering sounds, her hips rising and falling as her body heated to a fevered pitch. This time it was she who was begging. "Please…"

And he obliged, slowly, oh so painfully slowly, the first shallow movement of him in her sending her back arching, her mouth enamored with his throat. Thankfully it only lasted those first few thrusts, stretching her slowly, impossibly as he panted and tears cascaded freely down his cheeks. Why was he crying? He didn't know. And too quick he didn't care instinct invading him so her moved faster, harder, her warmth sucking him in sinfully so that the pressure rose. Rose.

Impossible. Strained, she held him to her, each moving against each other in a primal dance as the pressure tightened, the repetitive caress of thrust and retreat, maddening. And too soon, too soon they were falling. The endless streams of I love you's spilling from her lips stealing his control. Stealing his breath. His life.

And then they were breaking. Shattering into those millions of stars as her body clenched him desperately and he spilled inside her with a hoarse shout.

They shivered in the aftermath. The desert coolness tinging their heated skin. He kissed her throat. Nuzzled her chin, his fingers marveling in the thick weight of her hair as his body remained inside her. Already he could feel the fire stirring again and he smiled, ferrying them away in a whisper of sand to his yet woefully unused bed.

And as he held her as she slept, her breaths tickling his skin. Something warmer, purer, and infinitely protective filled him with an inexplicable sense of rightness. He licked the salt of her skin, tasting her. Tasting him. And smiled. This one. This one would never escape him. He could feel it already, the threads of fate binding them close. If she ran, he would follow. If she fell he would fall too. Even if she fought he would never release her. Couldn't.

Afterall, tanuki mated for life.

 

* * *

 

Glossary

Tanuki: Raccoon dog. A species of canids native to Japan, Korea, and China that is, in fact, monogamous.

Kami: God

Sunagakure no Sato: Hidden Village of the Sands

Kazekage: Literally wind shadow; ruler of Suna

 


End file.
